A Heated Moment
by amagicalship
Summary: I got a special request for Emma and Killian to have a "heated moment" when Hook was at his "most piratey." Thus, we go back to 2x12, "In the Name of the Brother," for some canon divergence/missing (sexy) scene at the hospital after Hook awakens from his car crash injuries. (Some dialogue not mine, obviously.)
1. Chapter 1

Emma sat on his bed, watching him intently while he slept. His face was bruised and battered from the car accident, but he was peaceful as he slumbered, giving him a boyish appearance. She considered reaching out and smoothing his hair back from his brow, but thought better of it. This man was trouble, of that she had no doubt.

There was a connection between them, a pull that she couldn't deny. She had felt it from the moment they met, but it only amplified on their joint venture up the beanstalk. He was a lone wolf as she had been, a tortured soul. Pain haunted his past, and he was wary of his future. Who stands in the way of a moving vehicle, without even the smallest attempt at self-preservation?

She'd be a fool to engage him; yet here she was staring at the pink of his lips and the strong line of his jaw. When his eyelashes began to flutter, her breath caught for a moment, because really - how did someone get that beautiful? She knew in no time she'd be confronted with those deep blue eyes, so she steeled herself for it. She wasn't about to let him get the best of her.

"Where's Cora?" she intoned.

Immediately he lifted his wrist, only to find it bound to the hospital bed. He raised one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Again? You're really into this, aren't you?" he said, his accent thick from slumber.

Emma smiled in self-satisfaction while he grimaced. "Damn, that hurts."

"I told you, you cracked a few ribs," she stated, rising from the bed to stand over him. "Where's Cora?" she repeated, with more force this time.

He looked at her now. "You look good, I must say. All 'Where's Cora?' in a commanding voice. Chills," though his demeanor suggested impudence.

"You have all sorts of sore places I can make you hurt," she told him, pouncing on his sides and causing him to gasp in protest.

Sighing in defeat, he answered her, "I have no idea where Cora is. She has her own agenda. There is something I am interested in - my hook. May I have it back? Or is there another attachment you'd prefer?" he added with a wink and a brazen smile.

Emma was astounded at how shameless he was. "You're awfully chipper for someone who just failed to kill his enemy, then got hit by a car," she tried to impress upon him.

"Well, my ribs may be broken, but everything else is still intact," he told her with a sultry smile. "Which is more than can be said for other days I've had. Plus, I did some quality damage to my foe."

Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You hurt Belle."

"I hurt his heart. Belle's just where he keeps it." His face turned serious for a moment. "He killed my love. I know the feeling."

Emma smiled at him, "Keep smiling buddy. You're chained up; he's on his feet, immortal, has magic, and you hurt his girl. If I had to pick dead guy of the year, I'd pick you."

He smiled at her then, a defiant sort of smirk. She was reminded again of how he stood there when the car raced toward him on the road, unmoving, and a small part of her felt sorry for him. Giving him one last sardonic smile, she turned to leave.

"Funny that. You act like you don't care for me at all, lass. Yet here you are, when I'm sure there are a dozen other places you could be right now. Why didn't you just let him kill me while he had the chance?"

Emma stopped in her tracks. There was the obvious answer, and there was a deeper one. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth, a truth she hadn't fully sorted in her own mind, so she skirted the issue as best she could.

"In case you forgot, Hook, I'm one of the good guys. And good guys don't leave people to die on the side of the road," she said, turning to face him again.

"You know what I think, Swan? I think you see something of yourself in me, and that scares you," he said, his voice impassioned. "I spent a lot of time up on that beanstalk after you left me there wondering why you betrayed me, and then it suddenly became clear. I make you feel things that you don't want to feel, so your only choice is to push me as far away as possible. Am I right? Tell me that isn't why you couldn't trust me. It's not me you don't trust - it's your own heart."

His words jarred her for a second, his ability to see through her well-crafted defenses rattling her to the core, before anger welled up and caused her arms to shake.

"The reason I don't trust you is because you're a pirate, and you've shown time and time again that you're only out for yourself!" Her voice had risen to a crescendo, belying her attempt to remain passive.

"Ah! There's the passion I knew was simmering beneath that cool exterior. Go ahead, Swan. Give me everything you've got."

Emma took two steps toward the bed, reaching down and pinning his arms to the mattress.

"Why do you insist on pushing everyone's buttons? What makes you think you know me? You don't know me. When I met you, you were pretending to be a blacksmith, secretly working for Cora. And now you want me to tell you how I feel? I'll tell you how I feel! I feel like you're wasting your life away on a pointless scheme to seek revenge for your lost love. It's not gonna bring her back, Hook. So, why are you willing to die for it?" Emma swallowed hard, tremors coursing through her body as she took in his features. His eyes were wide now, a mixture of confusion and something else…something that scared her just a bit more than it should.

It was only when he tilted his chin upwards that she realized how close their faces had become. She could feel the thrum of his pulse through the smooth skin of his wrists, and she loosened her grip, realization overtaking her.

"So, you do care, then," he said, and it wasn't a question. "Let me tell you, Emma, why I'm willing to die for my cause," he continued, swallowing carefully. "When I love someone, I love them with my whole heart, my whole being. And that's how I loved her, my Milah, before she was taken from me. I may have led a lonely life once, but I'm not afraid of love."

Emma was held captive for a moment in his gaze, and when she didn't answer him, he continued.

"You know what I think? I think you could use some…release from all that tension you're holding on to."

At this, she rolled her eyes, pulling back from him and sitting on the bed again. "Of course. And I suppose you know just who could give it to me, broken ribs and all?"

Smiling, he chuckled softly. "I see the way you look at me, Emma. I'm not blind. You want to pretend you're not attracted to me, but I know better. I've known it, I've felt it since the moment you held a knife to my neck and called me a liar."

"Please," Emma scoffed, looking away.

"And I am attracted to you, darling, no bones about that. I've been dying to know what treasures you keep hidden underneath all that leather and dark clothing. Whether your pale skin would turn ruddy at my touch, blossoming in heat. Whether your nipples are pink as a rose or brown and earthy. What sorts of noises you might make when I stroke your wet quim," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Emma gasped, her mouth dropping open in shock. She felt a warm flush creeping up her neck and a traitorous tingling between her legs. Her lack of response gave him leave to continue.

"Would you like it, dear, if I sucked at your neck and marked you as mine? Or would you prefer my mouth somewhere more private, say, along the insides of your thighs? I wonder if you've been given the proper attention you deserve there. I'm quite the expert with my tongue, if I do say so meself. I'd be happy to show you my…skills. I'm sure I could make you forget your troubles for an hour or two, or wipe that grim look off your face at least. I could have you moaning my name, everything else forgotten, as I taste you," he said, looking her over as if she were dinner.

Emma had heard enough. Her heart was racing, her pulse fluttering wildly in her neck.

"You're unbelievable! I can't believe you get away with talking to women this way. But I guess you are a bit old-fashioned, what are you, like 300 years old?" she said, rolling her eyes.

Laughing, he shifted his hips on the bed, lifting them until his robe parted, revealing a very impressive bulge in his pants. Emma's eyes shot straight towards it, and she immediately looked away, but not before he caught her staring, causing a deep blush to stain her cheeks. He looked more smug than ever.

"Curses and Neverland may have given me experience, but as you can see, I've retained my youthful glow," he chided, gesturing towards his face with his stump. "I find it's quite a winning combination with the ladies, actually. No one wants some poor sodding excuse for a lover. It pays to know your way around the feminine physique."

"Well, the only physique you're going to be knowing your way around here is the kind that administers pain pills and checks heart monitors. Even then, you'll be lucky if you make it out of here alive."

"Oh? I wouldn't be too sure about that Emma. I have a feeling you want me just as much as I want you. Why don't you just give in to your baser desires for once and find out what it's like to walk on the dark side with me? I promise I can make it worth your while. Or do you find me less attractive without the hook? I dare say it can provide some much needed stimulation in the bedroom." His voice was husky, and his face the picture of cocky self-assuredness.

 _Bastard_ , thought Emma. He wasn't going to let this go.

Drawing closer, she leaned over him, knowing full well he had nowhere to go. Placing her hand on his knee, she slowly moved it up his thigh, pressing the full weight of her torso into the movement. Raising one eyebrow, she taunted him in a low voice. "Is this what you want, Hook? You want me to touch you this way? I can make you squirm, alright. You think my hand feels good there, imagine what it would feel like working up and down your cock, stroking you and squeezing just hard enough while my mouth circles the tip. I can make you moan my name, over and over as you beg me for release."

She was just a breath away from him now, her lips ghosting over his own, and the tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. His eyes darted between her face and where her hand had stilled, a mere fraction away from his hardened length. She could feel his hot breath on her mouth, and she could smell him, musky and dark, his own distinct spicy aroma.

Briefly, she licked her lips, her tongue managing to skim over his lips as well, making fleeting contact with his whiskers. His eyes were blown wide and dark, his face raw with hunger, yet he made no move to kiss her. She got a small taste of him, and she desperately wanted more, the depth of her desire startling her.

Trembling, Emma realized she had lost control of the situation. His silence allowed the fog of lust to clear, and she pulled back sharply, removing her hot hand from his hip. She flexed her fingers, hiding them by her side so he wouldn't see the effect he had on her.

"You're not the only one who knows their way around a bedroom, Hook. Welcome to the 21st century," she said, walking away slowly, needing to find her balance.

"You're even more impressive than I thought, love. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. And don't worry about bringing your handcuffs, as you can see I've already got that covered," he called out as she neared the door. She could hear the amusement in his voice, but she refused to turn around and give him the satisfaction of a parting glance.

"Please," she muttered. "You couldn't handle it."

Walking down the hallway, she took several steadying breaths. She was right. This man was trouble with a capital T.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: A few people requested a sequel to this fic, so I figured, what the heck? I've just been in the mood for something sexy and naughty to happen between Emma and Killian (Hook) when he was still a bad boy and extra piratey. You don't need to read that one first to enjoy this one.

* * *

Killian took a long swill of rum, letting it warm his throat. Leaning his head back, he let it rest against the wall, closing his eyes. The doctors had done what they could for him in that sterile, white place they called a hospital, but now it was up to him to heal on his own. His ribs still hurt like a bitch, and he figured he deserved a few quiet moments to nurse his wounds before he continued on his path of vengeance.

Footsteps alerted him to someone's approach outside the warehouse, and he straightened up, adjusting his position so he could peek around the wall and figure out who was coming. When he saw a familiar slim figure in dark clothes and golden tresses, he smirked to himself, leaning back against the wall. Well, this day was looking up.

The footsteps quieted, and when he peeked around the wall again, he was perplexed. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. He was about to step around the doorway and look for her, when he was wrenched back against the wall with a strong forearm, complete with the press of hard metal against his cheek.

"Don't move," she hissed.

"Swan. How lovely to see you. Although it would be easier to do exactly that if you'd kindly remove the gun from my face."

She let out a loud huff before she lowered the gun, releasing him from her hold.

"What the hell are you doing here spying on me, Hook?" Her eyes were fiery as usual, burning bright in the dim light of the warehouse.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said smugly, cocking an eyebrow at her as he let his hot gaze travel over her form. The high-necked sweater she was wearing fit snug against her body in all the right places.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not spying on you," she said, as she shoved the gun back into her pocket.

"Then what are you doing here, exactly? Come to continue the little conversation we had in the hospital?" he asked, letting his tongue roll across his bottom lip suggestively.

She huffed in indignation, putting her hand on her hip. "I came down here to look for my parents. They said something about going down to the docks. But, now that you mention it, I'd love to continue our conversation from the hospital." Her sickly sweet smile quickly turned to a sour expression. "Where's Cora?" she asked in a steely voice, poking him hard in the chest.

Killian bent towards her, reveling in their closeness and the feel of heat emanating off her body, even if it was a result of anger more than desire. He knew how easy it was to shift from one to the other.

He leaned in close to her ear. "If you were looking for an reason to touch me, darling, you needn't use Cora as an excuse. You just have to ask," adding a wink for good measure and tilting his head as he looked her over.

In response, she tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, as if she were hoping to control herself that way, and Killian all but chuckled at her, causing her to blush. She darted her eyes away from him, looking flustered.

"That's not- I wasn't- Unh! Nevermind, why do I even bother with you?" she scowled at him.

He reached out, rubbing a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Why don't we stop pretending that there's nothing going on between us and skip to the fun part?"

"Which is?" she eyed him warily.

He shrugged at her, grinning lasciviously as he put a thumb to the corner of his mouth, stroking his beard. "The part where we do a lot less talking and a lot more _getting to know one another_." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Emma glared at him, but he could see the dark desire in her eyes, try as she might to hide it. Her pulse fluttered in the slim column of her neck as she swallowed thickly.

~/~

 _Dammit_ , thought Emma. This was not what she was looking for when she came down to the docks. She hadn't expected to find Hook down here, assuming he was still bedridden in the hospital. Yet, here he stood, all six feet of his dark, dangerous form, working his way under her skin again. She looked over his face, considering the implications of his wayward proposition. She should just walk away, tell him to fuck off, but she couldn't help herself. She was drawn to him.

Drawn to the way he bantered with her endlessly, to the way he touched delicately at his mouth as if sending a silent invitation. Drawn to the jagged red scar above his eye, that she wanted to soothe with gentle kisses and trace with her fingers. Drawn to the V of his neckline, revealing copious amounts of dark chest hair that she itched to tangle her fingers in. Her eyes were caught there, and he smirked at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

 _Focus, Emma_. She had to get out of here quick, before she did something stupid. She made the mistake of looking into his smouldering blue eyes, and a bolt of heat went straight down her spine.

Swallowing thickly, she finally was able to speak. "I _do_ know you, Hook. You're a scoundrel and a pirate." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Now, if you're not going to tell me where Cora is-"

She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. He didn't make a habit of touching her, and her eyes zoomed to his hand, currently hot as brimstone against her flesh.

He peered down at her, and she could see the heat in his eyes, ready to catch fire. For a moment she thought she caught an inkling of something else, then the mask shifted back into place and he was wickedly tempting once again.

"I'm not giving up, lass. If Cora can help me exact revenge on the Crocodile, then I am calling her my bedfellow. Though I'm sure I'd find your company much more agreeable in that regard." He smiled softly at her, arching one brow.

Emma jerked her arm away as if wounded. "God, when do you ever stop? Do you even listen to yourself? Talk, talk, talk, that's all I hear, pirate. Why don't you just shut up!?" She waved her hand at him exasperatedly.

He moved closer to her, leading with his hips in his usual affected swagger. She could smell his male scent wafting towards her, the richness of his leather combined with his musk and something heady and raw. It was making her brain feel mellow and weak.

"Well, if you want me to shut up so badly," he said slowly, pressing a finger to his lips, "I can think of a surefire way to achieve that." He raised his chin in a challenge and bit his lower lip. "Go ahead, Swan, do it," he said, popping the "t."

Suddenly all Emma could think about was kissing him. It would solve two problems at once - ebb the flow of words coming out of his mouth and put out the fire in her veins - and she desperately wanted both. The tension between them was becoming unbearable, and she found it hard to breathe, taking in air in shallow gulps.

 _A one time thing. It'll just be a one time thing. Get it out of my system. Right._

She knew her body had completely taken over when she lunged forward, grabbing him by the lapels and shoving him forcefully against the wall. Her mouth crashed against his, and she vaguely tasted rum as licked at his lips. It took him a moment to respond, and then he was moving - tasting, sucking, taking everything from her he could get. He flipped her around and she felt her back hit the wall as his body captured hers, pinning her there. His hand went from the back of her head to her hip and she heard a low moan escape her before her brain could even process what was happening.

 _God, he felt good_. Not only was he an excellent kisser, but the chemistry was off the charts. Fibrils of pleasure wound their way between her legs, and there was so much heat between them she could feel it spreading through her chest. His body pressed up against hers was doing sinful things to her mind, and she gasped for air when he broke the kiss to work his tongue along her jawline, his nose nuzzling beneath the collar of her sweater. She scratched her fingers into the hair on his chest with one hand, gripping his neck hard with the other.

Meanwhile, his hook grazed lightly against her ribs as his hand worked its way under the hem of her sweater. _Shit_. She should stop him. She should put an end to this. But she didn't know if she could. Didn't know if she wanted to, especially as his mouth made her weak in the knees, laving and sucking behind her ear.

She cried out softly, then jerked his head back up, claiming his mouth again in a hard, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue was making her dizzy with lust, and when she felt his knee press between her thighs, she rocked her hips eagerly against him, desperate for friction. He didn't disappoint, rubbing his thigh against her hot center, moaning into her mouth.

His hand finally emerged victorious, calloused fingers moving up the smooth skin of her side with determination. When he reached her breast, he grabbed it roughly, before releasing some of the pressure, then grabbed it again which made her jerk against him. He shoved his fingers up under her bra and she whimpered - _dammit_ \- when he made contact with her nipple.

She pulled away from his mouth to explore the skin at his neck, working her way down to the hollow of his throat.

"Fuck, Swan. God, you're glorious."

Raising her head up, she stared at him pointedly, as if to remind him that he promised to be quiet. In response, he lifted the hem of her sweater with his hook and closed his mouth over the nipple he had been stroking, and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from crying out. The twinge between her legs was becoming a painful throb now, and she wasn't sure if Cora herself could stop what was happening between them.

Emma longed to know if he was as affected as she was, so she reached her hand down and palmed him through his pants. He let out a strangled cry at her touch and she smiled in satisfaction. Not only was he straining against the laces of his pants, but he was every inch as cocky as he pretended to be, and she wanted him even more.

He lifted his head as he went from one breast to the other, bestowing equal attention. "Pink," he mumbled.

"What?" she breathed out, biting his shoulder before kissing it as she continued back up to his ear.

"Your nipples are pink as roses," he said with a lewd grin, raising his head to look at her.

"God, will you ever shut up?" she said, pulling his mouth hard against hers and biting at his lower lip. He growled in response, and the animalistic part of her loved it.

They continued kissing each other, devouring one another, curling and dipping their tongues until she felt it all the way down to her toes. Rocking her hips against him, she pressed herself up to where he was hard and aching and she felt him moan through his chest.

Aware of his every movement, she stilled slightly when she felt his hand go to the waistband of her pants, deftly flicking the button apart. _Oh, God, we should stop_ , she told herself. But there wasn't a single part of her body that wanted to, and she wasn't sure if she had the strength to convince it.

He worked her zipper down slowly and she nearly shook with anticipation. Then his fingers were skimming the top of her underwear, his palm flat against her belly. Ever so slowly, he moved them downwards, as if giving her the option to stop him. She only kissed him harder, pulling the hair at the back of his head as they angled their kiss. Stroking him softly across his scruffy cheek, her fingertips made their way to his chin at the exact moment he worked his way through her curls, finding her slick heat.

She did cry out then, but he muffled it with his mouth and for once she was actually grateful to him. But not as grateful as she was when he began to move, stroking her expertly. She barely registered his deep groan in appreciation of her wetness. Her mind melted then, turning completely to liquid as the intensity of her pleasure overtook her. She sucked his tongue into her mouth as he put his hook beneath her ass, bringing her even closer.

It didn't take long to bring her to the edge, so worked up had she become from their previous activities. When the moment came, she opened her mouth and bit down on his chin, needing something to anchor herself to. He moaned with her as if he were coming apart himself, though she knew that must not be true.

Coming down from the high, she quickly formed a plan of action. He removed his hand from her pants, placing it at her waist, and she stroked his hardened length as she whipped them around, pressing him back against the wall with her other hand. She kissed him again and pressed herself into him, enjoying what she told herself would be the last time.

~/~

She stroked her hand down his right arm, and he didn't notice anything was amiss until he heard the click as the handcuff locked into place. Before he could react, she brought the other cuff down hard against the metal pipe that ran against the wall. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her mouth to look down at her, unbelieving, and yet not all that surprised.

"Bloody buggering hell, Swan. Please tell me this is part of phase two of our getting to know one another?" he asked incredulously.

Looking him over, she had a catlike expression on her face, and yet she was flushed and messy from their encounter. She was unbelievably gorgeous, and he desperately didn't want this to end. Pressing one last soft kiss to his mouth as she clutched his lapels, she pulled away.

"Well, you said you wanted to know what sorts of noises I would make. So, now you know," she said, shrugging her shoulder. "I guess that will have to be enough to satisfy you," she added with a smug smirk, her eyes flickering down to the still large bulge in his pants.

Killian barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "You've bested me again, Swan, I'll give you that."

She started to walk backwards, adjusting her clothing as she moved.

"Before you leave, though, there's something you should know," he told her, holding her gaze. "I enjoyed every last second, lass, and I know you did too."

Emma bit her lip, barely suppressing a smile. "It was a one time thing, Hook," she said, looking him straight in the eyes, before she turned her back on him, raking her hands through her hair.

"You'll be back, Swan. I know you. You've had a taste and now you want more." He licked his lips, savoring the memory.

She paused slightly at the door, but didn't turn around.

"Swan!" he called, pulling at the handcuff. "Swan!"

He wished he could say that she came back for him, but all he was left with was broken ribs and a wounded heart.


End file.
